Last Call
by ashonorion
Summary: Buffy comes to Spike for the usual. But will he give it? Season 6, AU conversation.


_**AN: Because I think he had more right to say it than she did.**_

_**Rated T**__** – Those of you who know my work know everything has coarse language. **_

_**Disclaimer: I hereby forfeit rights to Buffy in the name of the giant hippopotamus and all his evil minions.**_

* * *

He was drunk when she arrived but she couldn't bring herself to care. It's not like she came for the stimulating conversation. Her pace was strong and determined, ignoring the obvious 'fuck-off' stamped across the back of his head. He knew she was there and was ignoring her, but Buffy wasn't one to be ignored. Her hands gripped her top, ready to take it off.

"Leave it."

_Huh?_

She caught the profile of his face as he barely glanced at her. "Leave it and get out."

A choking sound came from her throat. "Wha-, Spike. Don't you want me?" she knew the answer which is why she couldn't understand.

He laughed dryly. "I want you."

A shrug and she tried to remove the top again.

"I said leave it."

_Okay, well it's not like I have to take it off._ Her hands dropped to her zipper.

"That too. Told you to get out Slayer."

She pursed her lips. "I know what you told me and I say again; what?"

"Do you even know what it's doing to me?" he stamped his smoke out on the floor and faced her.

Her eyes were cold and arms crossed. "Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you the one stalking me and begging for a crumb?" she held her arms wide. "Seems to me you're getting exactly what you wanted."

He nodded. "And now I don't."

The words hurt in places she thought no longer existed. "You love me."

"I do."

"Then why…"

"It's killing me."

_Killing him? Killing _him_?_ A heavy silence filled the crypt as she stood there gaping.

"Over a thousand ways to kill a man and you've perfected every one. Took a page out of my sire's book and worked from the inside. Where it's soft, where it's warm. Does it feel warm to you pet? Or does the chill of your own flesh numb you against the slaughter?"

She regained her voice along with the anger. "_Don't even_"

"Do you feel at all?" he said softly.

She passed between anger and hurt; guilt and righteousness. "Of course I feel."

The glass hit the bench with a sharp slam and he swayed only slightly when he closed in. Her breath hitched when he took her hand only to splay it across his cheek. "Do you?" he whispered.

The rampant heat she felt whenever they touched flooded her veins and her hand dropped to his zipper. She could fix this. This…thing he was trying to force on her, she could make it stop. But his hand batted hers away before drawing it back to his face.

"I already know what you feel _there_. But 's an illusion without this." He tilted her head to focus on him and it was simple to tell why. Spike was always in the eyes. The body could fool you, the mouth could corrupt, but everything he was, everything that was purely him was in the eyes. There was affection and understanding alongside determination and torment. A kaleidoscope of truth she didn't want.

So she ran.

"If you go out that door, don't bother coming back" he yelled after her. So she stopped. But she wouldn't turn around even though her body shook violently with the weight of what was happening. His voice was soft when he spoke again. "I love you. I know you don't' like it but I'll give it anyway. Maybe I'm selfish in love, 'cause I want it all. Not all at once, but eventually. There's no light to you now, there's no promise when you come here other than you'll fuck me into the ground and kick the soil on after. Dig me up when you're ready for another round. They say that around ninety per cent of communication is physical. What they don't tell you is without those few words you do say it all goes to dust. So if you want this" he gestured to himself, "talk to me."

It was falling apart. It was all falling apart and she couldn't deal. A voice was telling her he'd forget it in the morning. Everything would be back to normal and they'd pretend it never happened. She could save this. So it barely registered when her body turned and said the words. "Sleep it off Spike." Then she was gone. Running out into the moonlight without looking back.

A sad knowing smile crossed Spike's face. The one drink he'd had barely hitting his bloodstream and his own demons repeating that she'd made her choice.


End file.
